Isn't this the way it always happens…
Anyone who has known me for any amount of time knows where I stand in regards to this whole blasted 'Civil War.' I don't buy into this 'freedom fighters for justice' bit the Rebels are promoting. Their people have committed acts of terrorism that have taken innocent lives just like the Imperials, all for their higher agenda. That's not to say what the Rebellion is doing is completely wrong, either.
Even though they're not completely innocent, the Rebs haven't done anywhere near as much damage as the Empire has done. In fact, there are single Imperial atrocities, I'm sure, that completely out weigh anything and everything the Rebels have done, and I myself take any chance I get to stick it to Ol' Wrinkles and his shell-head soldiers. There just has to be better ways of going about it then an all-out war that's pulling innocent people into the middle of their power struggles and leaving shattered lives in their wake. Trust me that I know what I'm talking about when I say this. I've seen these lives first hand in my travels across the galaxy.
Never the less, as I said before, if I see a chance to shoot a proton torpedo up the Empire's rear and razz them for what they've done, I'm all for it. It seems, however, that I may have played freedom fighter a few too many times myself, which has led me into my current…unsavory situation.
I'll say this, Stormtroopers are terrible conversationalists…
A trio of boot clicks echoed in the cold, drear gray corridor of the Star Destroyer Retributer. Hands in his pockets, Marikk let out a sigh as he strolled along casually, despite the fact that a pair of armed Stormtrooper escorts flanked him. He was thankful they hadn't shackled him for their little jaunt, though in all honesty it had caught him by surprise. The Imperials weren't known for their leniency with prisoners, especially non-human prisoners, so this sudden act of civility made his skin crawl a bit.
As they proceeded through the bulk of the warship, his care-free disposition -or was it that fact that he was merely free?- caught him the attention of all the crewman they passed, as well as a few sneers and snide remarks. He took it all in stride, though. Whenever he saw them, he made sure to puff out his chest and lift up his chin, giving himself what he figured was the appearance of an officer of high standing. If he was going to be stuck here, he might as well have some fun.
Rounding the corner of a rather short corridor they had entered not long before, the two Stormtroopers picked up their pace and took positions at both sides of a doorway that had suddenly appeared before them. Marikk paused briefly, caught off guard by their sudden change in positions before he continued on his path, and noticed two verdant potted plants on both side of where the troopers stood, surely another rare sight on board a ship such as this, before entering into the office that lied ahead. The doors slid with speed and precision out of his way as he walked inside, buffeted suddenly a gust of warm air that escaped from inside.
It was a brightly lit space, roughly pentagonal in shape, and surprisingly comfortable. More of the potted plants like those outside the door sat in each corner, while a large, ornately woven rug of reds and oranges covered the very center of the room. Two spherical, illuminated fish tanks were imbedded in the walls to the sides of the office's most forward point, while in front of that sat a large desk, emblazoned with an almost artistic design on its steel gray facing. Busy at work with the piles of flimsiplast and datapads that were scattered amongst a line of holos and mementoes that decorated the forward part of the desk, his host, a distinguished-looking male officer sat. In all honesty, he didn't look as old as the graying brown hair might betray. This man still looked quite spry and could probably put up a good fight if he ever got into a brawl, judging by the twinkle in his eye. Then again, with the crispness of his uniform and how well-manicured he kept himself, he didn't quite necessarily seem the brawling type. Maybe swords or a quick-drawn blaster instead…
The Duros Captain shook his head, trying to get his thoughts back on track, realizing quickly that the man, an Admiral if he was reading the rank badge correctly, was already starring up at him. It was then, to his surprise, that it dawned on Marikk that this Imperial was smiling at him.
"Ahhh, the esteemed Captain Marikk Danar of the Nova Hound," began the officer with a welcoming inflection in his deep baritone. "I welcome you aboard the Retributer. I am Admiral Ahren Elric, its commanding officer." He waved his hand out quickly towards the awaiting seats opposite his on the other side of the desk. "Please, sit."
With a slight nod, Marikk took the offer and slipped down onto it, both hands sprawled out on the arms of the chair. "I'm honored by your… courteous welcome, Admiral. I just wish you would have given me a little more advance warning, or any for that matter, before you tractored my ship and dragged it on board."
"While that may have been the most polite course of action, I agree, it would not have been the most prudent, especially considering your crew's history of fleeing any Imperial ship they encounter." Though he continued to keep his mannered, welcoming façade intact, traces of his true feelings slipped through in the form of some intones of anger in both his speech and facial expressions. He was putting all he had into keeping his 'mask on. "That is part of the reason I brought you here."
Oh crap, he knows. I knew it. The Captain folded his hands in his lap and kept his eyes locked with those of his host, trying to keep up his own cool façade while entertaining thoughts of imminent arrest or disintegration. "Well then, my dear Admiral, let us put our pleasantries aside and get right to the business at hand. What can I do for you?"
"Straight and to the point. I can respect that in a leader of men." Snatching up a datapad from amongst the contents on top of his desk, Elric began to scroll through whatever was displayed there and looked as though he was reading over it as he continued to speak. "It would seem you and your crew have made themselves quite a little thorn in the Empire's side, Captain. The list of your offenses is quite impressive. Trespassing in a restricted sector. Attacking an Imperial Star Destroyer. Resisting arrest… on multiple occasions, it seems. Aiding in the transport of a fugitive from Brentaal. The murder of Imperial personnel, and, so it would appear, being an accessory in the attempted robbery of the estate of one of the nobles of Vaynai. And all of this you managed to accomplish in just the last two months! It's surprising that no one has yet to put a bounty of your collective heads."
Marikk furrowed his brow. "So, what are we doing here together? Some sort of tea and ultra-formal arrest?"
"How droll indeed, but really quite the opposite, my dear Duros. I'm offering you a chance at salvation."
"Salvation?" The suspicion in his voice was heavy. "In exchange for what? There's no way you're doing this merely out of the kindness of your heart."
"No, it's out of my superior's heart that you are even being offered this kindness. However, you are correct in your assumption that there must be an equivalent trade for your freedom." Admiral Elric flipped his thumb onto a small button and switched to something new on the datapad as he continued to read through it. "We have a 'small' recovery mission for you and your crew, Captain. Two weeks ago, an Imperial recon craft was dispatched to the Varsene sector, on the border of the Unknown Regions, to scout out its sole planetary body, the planet VST-001. We received confirmation that they arrived within the system, but there have been no updates since. What we would like your crew to do is go to VST-001 and recover the database so that we can discover what they found out and, if they still live, the crew. You were specifically chosen for this task by the Moff because of you group's renown and expertise in completing whatever jobs you take on."
Not to mention that we're a highly expendable work force.
"Well, this is quite interesting, sir, but what if we don't accept."
The Admiral tossed the pad onto the desk, his demeanor growing entirely grim. "I'm afraid there's no real choice in the matter. If you do not agree to aid us in this task, Danar, then you and your crew are to be arrested immediately and your ship impounded. Within all the activity of transferring you, though, I cannot ensure the safety or survival of anyone onboard the Nova Hound."
"It's not like we haven't faced these life or death situations before, Admiral. We've been in worse straights than this." Obviously, he was bluffing, but he was hoping Elric wouldn't call it.
"Oh, I have no doubts, but then, of course, there's the matter of Miss Alto…"
Marikk perked up quickly out of concern, eyes narrowing suspiciously as her name slipped off of the Imperial's lips. "Naemi? What do you know about Naemi?"
"It seems one of my agents on Vaynai spotted her in the caverns during her most recent visit to the planet. Later it was discovered that you were found in her company at a late night rendezvous on her landing pad, so I decided it prudent to have a tracking device placed on her ship in case her presence would ever be needed."
"What are you implying, Admiral?"
"Do I really need to spell it out for you, Captain Danar?"
"Well, when you put things into perspective…" The Duros's eyes closed briefly as his body gave in to a growing feeling of defeat. "With an offer like that, how can I refuse?"
"I thought you'd see it my way." There was an all-too obvious smirk on the Imperial's face, poking at Marikk like a hot coal. "There is one more thing. My superior has asked that a 'special envoy' be assigned to the mission to observe your activities and to make sure you don't, by chance, go back on our agreement and try to run. I'm sure, though, that you would never do such a thing."
His voice was emotionless in response. "No. Never."
"Excellent. I'll have a mission briefing and the coordinates of the Varsene system transmitted to you immediately. The envoy should arrive at your ship within the hour. Guards!"
The door hissed opened and the two troopers came marching in, carbines held over their chests, at attention.
"Please escort Captain Danar back to his ship."
"Sir!" the two responded in unison.
Standing from his chair, Marikk took up his previous position between the Stormtroopers and began his trek back to his ship when his attention once more was called back to Admiral Elric, who continued to keep that same smirk upon his face.
"Oh, and Captain, I'm counting on you!"
It was doubtful that you'd find many crowds much quieter than the one gathered in the Destroyer's shuttle bay, unless you happened to wander into some sort of monastery. A battalion of heavily armed Stormtroopers kept silent guard as they completely encircled the form of the old Consular-class Cruiser. In opposition to their presence, Sillek waited quietly, eyes closed and arms crossed as he leaned up against the landing strut closest to the boarding ramp, his sword always at an instance's reach. Neither force budged an inch. It was this scene that greeted Marikk upon his return.
"Well, you Imps really know how to send out the welcoming committee," the Duros quipped, glancing over at the trooper to his right. Neither of them reacted to him, merely marched forward like a pair of droids, parting the line of their fellow soldiers and leading him directly to the base of the Hound's ramp. "It's been a wonderful date, guys, really. We'll have to get together again soon."
Again, neither of them reacted to his comment.
"You are to remain here until further notice. Noncompliance will result in severe disciplinary actions."
Both troopers turned on heel and marched away without a moment's hesitation once their declaration was made, leaving Marikk standing there once more in the silence of the bay. "What? Don't I get a goodnight kiss?"
"You're going to get yourself shot one of these days with comments like that," chided Sillek from his position.
"True, but I think I've quite mastered the ability to get myself shot at even without the comments."
There was a light chuckle as the Quarren swordsman stood to full height and joined his younger companion at the ramp, bringing his sword back under the shadowed confines of his cloak. His tentacles seemed relatively tense despite his overall calm demeanor, though the one cut short in the skirmish with the Emperor's Hand but a month before was still looking rather weak despite the fact that the bandages were not removed and the wound itself had healed. "So, what exactly did you find out?"
"It would seem that we now have a 'job' from the Imperials."
"A job?"
Marikk nodded slowly, eyes closed as he slipped his hands into his pants pockets. "A little recovery mission from the superior of the Admiral on board this ship." He glanced around suspiciously and leaned in towards Sillek. "We'll talk about it more in a bit. For now, go gather the crew for an emergency meeting in the salon pod. There are some things to discuss."
Nodding discreetly, Sillek hurried up the landing ramp to prepare while Marikk quickly glanced around and surveyed the area before rushing up to him. There was much to do before they left… to prepare for their 'service' in the Empire.
The image of Moff Gennai Darden floated larger than life over top the holonet transceiver, bathing the communications chamber in its pale blue aura. His expression was rather terse and shadows ebbed forth from the deep lines upon his face, almost completely hiding his eyes. Neither spoke until the Admiral gave his superior officer a quick, respectful bow.
"What do you have to report, Admiral? Hopefully something good."
"Indeed, my Moff, I do. We have tracked and detained the mercenaries over Ord Antalaha and I've met with the Duros Captain already. He has agreed cooperate with our 'request.'"
A crack of a smile crossed Darden's thin lips. "Excellent. Have you received any news concerning the envoy?"
"Yes," Admiral Elric returned promptly, an obvious exuberance and pleasure in his voice. "The shuttle we sent to intercept him has just returned. He should arrive at the Mercenaries' ship soon."
"This has been a job well done, Ahren. Though I regret Lord Ravage was unable to be here to hear this news first hand, I will tell him of your fine work once he completes his service to the Emperor. He, too, will be pleased."
Basking in the praise, the Admiral smiled broadly and bowed again, hands clasped behind his back. "Thank you, my Moff. It is my honor to serve; with all of the skills at my disposal to see that your goals are accomplished."
"It is good to hear once more of your commitment. Do all you can to make sure that this mission is a success. If VST-001 is the planet we suspect it to be, our plans may proceed much faster than we could have ever dreamed."
The salon was abuzz with chatter from the crew after Marikk had passed on the news to them of the Admiral's offer. Gathered in their usual positions around the conference table, they were desperately trying to come up with some way out of their current fix with what time they had, preferably with their lives. So far, the closest semblance of an escape plan they had managed to devise might at least give them twenty seconds of life before they were blasted to atoms.
"How about we plant an explosive charge in their engine room, disable the tractor beam projectors, blast out of here, and then detonate the charges remotely, blowing this hulk to slag."
"Only one problem with this plan, Obbeo," responded Marikk calmly, hands clasped together in front of his face. "That being the little party waiting outside the Hound. They've already said we'd be 'severely disciplined' if we attempted to leave the ship."
"Yeah, but what about Sillek? With his fancy sword moves, he could make mince meat out of those white armored wimps," Crae returned, making mock sword moves with his hands as he spoke.
Arms crossed over his chest, the Quarren swordsman glanced over curiously at the mention of his name. "While I'll agree that the normal Stormtrooper is usually little to no challenge for me, if their numbers are great enough, such as the number of troopers that are most likely stationed on this Destroyer, even the most skilled warrior can be defeated when he is appropriately outnumbered."
And thus it continued. Back and forth they shot out whatever ideas came to mind, only then to be rebutted by one of the others. The one thing they were united on was under no circumstances did they want to get involved with and work for the Empire, but none of them could come up with a viable solution to solve their dilemma. All the while, Captain Marikk sat back in his chair at the head of the table, lost in his thoughts for the most part but returning to the here and now every so often to insert his opinions into the conversation. Normally he might have gone along with the various ideas his people were coming up with to escape the ship by force, but there still remained one thing he had not told the crew about, save for Sillek, and that was Naemi. They were still mostly in the dark to what had happened on Vaynai. He had told them about Naemi and his association with her in the past, but they still didn't know anything about her in the present, chief amongst it all the threat on her life by the Imperials if they didn't cooperate. Even if they did manage to escape, that would only bring the Emperor's fist down upon Nae before she even realized what was going on. He'd have to make sure to contact her at the first possible chance he had about that tracking device.
"Well, what do you think, Captain?"
Marikk shook his head and tried to tear himself out of his inner reflection. "Huh? What?"
"It's suicide, that's what it is, you know!" Loon interjected before anyone had the chance to inform the Captain of the latest idea.
"That's what you've said to just about each one of our suggestions, Neimoidian."
"At least I care about the collective safety, Ortolan. It's insane to try and fight our way out of a heavily armed Imperial warship. We should try more diplomatic matters. Though I'd hate to lose them, perhaps a… bribe… would be sufficient to secure our freedom." The half-Neimoidian accountant wrinkled his face slightly in disgust at the thought of giving away their hard earned credits, looking as if he had just swallowed a bitter herb. Much to his surprise, though, the idea wasn't completely disregarded.
"That actually might not have been a half-bad suggestion," his cousin added, finally getting back into the thick of things. "While it can prove effective with some less scrupulous officer, I'm afraid our hosts seem quite by the book. Loyal Imps through and through. We'd be in detention cells before we realized what was going on. While I appreciate everyone's ideas on what we could do to get out of this jam, I'm afraid in this situation…"
"Marikk Danar. Report to the landing ramp immediately."
The salon pod went dead silent as that command, spoken with a slightly exotic accent, rang out from the comm at the Captain's hip. They were all caught off guard and probably wouldn't have been any more shocked if the person on the other end of the comm had marched into the pod himself. Pushing out from his seat, Marikk stood to his feet and motioned towards Abras and Sillek with his index finger.
"…We're out of time. You two, come with me. It's time we met this special envoy in person."
It took nearly a minute, if that, for the trio to make their way to the landing ramp from the salon pod a deck above. Thank the maker of these old cruisers that the lift tubes were so centrally built.
Descending the ramp from the vestibule just inside, a figure clothed in black came into view, his back turned away from them, standing a few meters away, giving orders to bay crewmen who were running about, preparing various crates and moving fuel lines. Much to Marikk's relief, the human blockade the Imperials had put around their ship was gone.
"Greetings, sir!" the Duros hailed to the officer below in what both Sillek and Abras knew was the Captain's most genial diplomatic front. "I am Captain Marikk Danar of the Nova Hound. Might you be…"
"Yes, I know who you are and yes, I am the special envoy," the Imperial, a Stormtrooper Officer by the looks of his stark black uniform, bit back, continuing to give orders to those running about the bay. At first, they didn't notice anything odd about the man, but when at last he turned around to speak to them face to face, the mercenaries nearly stumbled backwards. "I am Commander Mereel, leader of this expedition."
"There's only one leader on this ship, Imperial, and that's Captain Marikk!" Abras was livid at Mereel's proclamation, but a steady arm from Sillek and a quick motion of Marikk's hand kept the torrent under control.
"I…apologize for my crewman's outburst, Commander, but I too am slightly confused. The Admiral never said anything about you taking command of this operation when we spoke earlier."
The Commander's face remained as cold and expressionless as if it were carved from stone. "Well, I have said it, and on this mission I am the eyes, ears and hand for both Admiral Elric and his superior, Moff Darden of Osahn. My words are their words, so unless you want to find yourselves in containment cells, you'll heed my commands. Do you understand?"
"Yes, of course." A solemn expression framed Marikk's blue features, but inside he was fuming with the same level of anger that Abras had expressed earlier. This deal is getting better and better all the time. Ok, ok…calm down, Marikk. You can't let this schutta get under your skin. Keep your cool. Keep your cool. "Anyway, Commander, if we could just make our way on board, we'll be on our way. We still need to make a layover to refuel and pick up supplies at…"
"We'll be doing no such thing." Again, Mereel shouted orders to the bay officers as several teams of two went back and forth from the Nova Hound'slanding ramp, loading several crates into the vestibule. "The Admiral has allowed your ship to refuel here from the Retributer's stores, which my men are preparing for now. Also, we have been allotted a supply of military issue ration packs for use on our mission. As soon as I'm aboard, we'll be departing immediately to VST-001, with no stops in-between. Now get back onboard the ship and prepare. I will be to the cockpit shortly."
Marikk gritted and bowed his head. "Yes, sir."
Making their way back into the ship, Sillek ducked down and leaned over, whispering to the Captain while carefully glancing back behind him, almost visibly on edge. "Do you recognize what that man is, Marikk?"
"Yeah, he's a clone."
That statement, however, was an understatement. There were several types of clones within the Stormtrooper Corps, besides the rank and file recruits that also bolstered their numbers. This clone, however, was different… no, he was special. He was by no means an ordinary soldier. This man, scars across his face worn as badges of honor from the many battles he must have weathered and survived in the past, could trace his 'ancestry' back to the days of the Old Republic. This man found his origins from the genetic template of the bounty hunter known as Jango Fett.